


The reason was Ryouta Kise

by suzakukills



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzakukills/pseuds/suzakukills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you have any idea of how unlikely it is that a plane crashes? The odds are 1 in 29.4 million.  This sick hope in his gut told him that they made a mistake. A Kasamatsu/Kise fic set in the future. A little angst. Okay, a lot of angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The reason was Ryouta Kise

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the "Imagine your Otp" TUMBLR prompts, found at imagineyourotp.tumblr.com

Do you have any idea of how unlikely it is that a plane crashes? The odds are 1 in 29.4 million.  You are more likely to die a freaky fell-in-the-bathtub death.

But that small percentage – that tiny possibility still exists and for someone who is constantly on a plane the risk is even higher; yet he couldn’t accept this reality, he could not be okay with the fact that Kise was gone. This sick hope in his gut told him that they made a mistake. How could they even identify a body if it was charred, if it had been burnt down by the flames that engulfed the plane?

It was not Kise.

He was alive. He was the type of guy who was supposed to age gracefully- to hit 50 still looking like he was 30. He was going to become a basketball legend. He would get a few movie deals and turn into an actor, a lé Michael Jordan. He would eventually become a guest  commentator for Basketball games and maybe even get his own radio show. His smile was supposed to be plastered across billboards all over town and his face in pretty much every product you could think of.

Yukio Kasamatsu stared at his pale reflection in the bedroom mirror, putting his tie around his neck and shaking his head violently, trying to rid of the thoughts of hope.

He was getting dressed for a funeral. The reason for being in all black clothes was an unexplainable plane crash, 100 km from Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris – The reason was a passenger on that plane. The reason was Ryouta Kise.

He reached for the picture in his night-stand and traced the photograph inside the frame, it was from their years in Kaijou High.

Before they had gone PRO. It was taken in the winter cup, after they had beaten Fukuda Sogo High, they were both covered in sweat, yet Kise’s smile and stupid-perfect face made him look flawless despite the messy hair.

“You idiot, you said you would see me later”, unconsciously Yukio tightened his grip on the frame and it made a snapping sound as it broke under the pressure.

“It’s real, you are gone”, the realization suddenly swept in and he sat on the bed, elbows pressed against his knees, hands covering his own face.

The tears fell, unstoppable.

The broken frame straight in line of his eyesight laid in the floor.

He fell back on the bed and buried his head on the right side of it, Kise’s side – he took a breath and a familiar scent (that high-end shampoo the blond used) invaded Yukio’s senses.

Whenever Kise was away from home, he would never sleep on the blonde’s side of the bed, always waiting patiently for his return whenever he was overseas. This time around, he never wanted to sleep on the left side ever again.

A loud repetitive noise snapped him back to reality, it came from his right pocket. His cellphone ringed over and over again, Yukio took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He took the cellphone out – but it stopped ringing by the time he had managed to stop the tears.

Instead of a caller’s name on the screen, the picture of Kise’s last photo shoot flashed – the blond wore a pair of dark blue jeans and was covered in dark grey paint, he stood topless and the focus was his golden eyes and muddied up hair. It had been Kise’s doing to change the wallpaper. S _o you won’t miss me too much_ he had said after Yukio scolded him for messing around with his phone.

“I can’t do this. I won’t do this”, he mumbled over and over, he felt like throwing the phone against the wall, of tearing down this house. Just getting rid of everything that reminded him of Kise.

The phone rang again, _Daiki Aomine_ read the caller i.d.

Yukio stood up again and fixed his suit jacket as he answered the phone.

“Yes?” he managed, short enough to not give away his trembling voice.

“The funeral has already started. You were supposed to do the eulogy. Are you coming?” Aomine’s voice softened.

“I am on my way” Yukio replied, trying to fix his tie again as he stared at his worsened reflection on the mirror.

“Ah, okay. I- listen if you don’t wanna come its fine, we get it”, Aomine’s voice indescribable, the call itself was awkward.

 “Just distract them, I will be there soon”, he reassured Aomine and took a closer look in the mirror, his gray eyes looked red and puffy. Grabbing a pair of sunglasses from a drawer he headed out.

“I guess you finally got what you wanted…  Aomine and I had a conversation that didn’t end with us insulting each other”, Yukio said, as he looked up at the sky and got into his car. 


End file.
